


sweet talk to my ears

by comorbidity



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Choking, M/M, Phone Sex, anyway so did anyone see those insta comments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:13:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27201611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comorbidity/pseuds/comorbidity
Summary: Tracing his throat with his own fingers will never feel as good as when Lewis does it.
Relationships: Lewis Buchan/Alex Elmslie
Comments: 9
Kudos: 51





	sweet talk to my ears

Alex types the comment, hits post, and sets his phone down. He gives it two minutes max before he gets a text.

Somehow it's still quicker than he expects; the phone vibrates not thirty seconds later. He picks it up again and taps on the notification from Lewis.

_i wasn't joking_

Alex grins at the message, his heart giving a small leap of excitement. It's all too easy to bait Lewis, but it never gets any less amusing. Lewis always knows when it's meant for him.

_ > i know you weren't _

Days like these, the distance feels worse than usual. He loves living with George, loves having one of his best mates in the same vicinity... but he does occasionally imagine what it might be like to have Lewis handy. Then Alex wouldn't have to post thirst trap selfies on Instagram in hopes of provoking Lewis from afar.

Though honestly, he might still do it anyway. It's that much fun.

_what are you up to, love_

Nothing much at all, though Alex holds off on saying so for the moment. Tease it out a bit. He knew before posting the pictures - hand poised just so, showing off to hundreds of thousands something intended for a single pair of eyes - that he would be inviting solicitations, and he has every intention of following through. He's not that cruel. It doesn't mean he can't savour the process, however.

He moves over to his bed and reclines there, propping himself up on a pillow. Once he's comfortable, he decides to reply.

_ > lonely night in. what about you? _

Alex figures the phone call will be next. Texting isn't as rewarding.

Sure enough, the screen lights up with Lewis's name. Voice only, not FaceTime. Somewhat of a letdown, but Alex answers regardless.

"Lonely, you say." Lewis speaks in a low voice. It’s late; maybe others are asleep.

"Bit, yeah," Alex replies. He isn't home alone, but even though George is certainly awake, he’s shut away in his room, probably with headphones on. "You didn't answer my question."

"What am I up to?" There's a warm burr to his tone that sends a shiver down Alex's spine. "Well... thinking about you now, aren't I. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"Not sure what you mean," Alex says, knowing that his bratty smirk is probably audible. One hand is holding the phone up; the other is rubbing semi-consciously at his neck in emulation of the photos. He thinks about Lewis's comment - how it was precisely the response he was hoping to net, in amongst the jeers and salacious jibes from other friends and fans. 

Tracing his throat with his own fingers will never feel as good as when Lewis does it.

"Of course you do." Even if he's only doing it to be mindful of the noise, Lewis's quiet speech adds another dimension of thrill to the conversation. "Posting something like that... you know what you're doing."

Alex is still smiling, grateful that Lewis can't see his face after all. "And what is that?" He can't help himself. Hearing Lewis say it aloud is too satisfying to let slip away.

"Darling," Lewis says (as Alex melts, as he does every time he hears the word, doubly glad there's no visible proof of his sudden blush), "if I was there right now, I'd shut you up proper. Teach you to get me going like this."

The hand that's been resting on Alex's neck slides down to the crotch of his shorts instead, palming the erection there. "Tell me about it," he says, suddenly breathless, all traces of his feigned ignorance gone.

"Are you touching yourself?"

The whispered question sends another rush of blood between his legs. "Yeah," he admits. He takes a moment to grab a tissue from his nightstand before sliding a hand beneath the waistband of the shorts and wrapping it around his cock. 

"That didn't take long." There's a smugness in the reply, as though this isn't exactly what Alex hoped would happen. But Lewis knows the game as well as Alex does, knows that the effect he has on Alex is just as significant as it is the other way around. "Are you thinking about last time?"

As a matter of fact, Alex hadn't been thinking about last time - though now, of course, he is, recalling with absolute clarity the way Lewis had looked straddled atop of him, hand closed tenderly around Alex's neck, stealing the breath from Alex's parted lips with a lingering kiss as the other grew pleasantly light-headed from the grip. Alex replies with a low hum of assent as he begins to stroke, still trying to take his time.

"You look so fucking good like that," Lewis breathes. "I love seeing how desperate you get, begging for it. Isn't that right, love?"

Alex can only make another affirmative noise, mercifully beyond the need to actually beg this time. He would, though, if Lewis asked.

He's no longer thinking about their previous night together, mind back to the present, wishing Lewis was speaking directly into his ear and not over the phone. He imagines the sensation of those fingers pressed firmly and yet with such reverent care to either side of his neck, cutting off just enough of the blood flow to make his head spin. Lewis is simultaneously assertive in bed and yet brimming with utmost caution, to the point where Alex has almost demanded more callous force in the past. It's never truly been necessary, though. On a more rational level, outside of the feverish requests of his libido, he respects Lewis's consideration too much to complain.

"I really do wish I was there," Lewis was saying, each word landing like a delicate caress, sending pleasant tingles along Alex's nerves. "I'm just picturing you now, all wrecked and strewn out. You'd like that, wouldn't you."

It's no longer a question, and Alex feels no need to reply beyond the plaintive noises in his throat. His hand motions are getting choppier already, too quick and too messy for him to last. So much for drawing it out. It's clearly been too long.

"God." The quiet curse alone almost pulls an actual moan from Alex's lips. "I'd like to be fucking you right now."

Alex can only partially restrain an embarrassing whine at the thought, the sound escaping him as a whimper. But he's past the point of being able to hold back any longer. The combination of Lewis's soft voice, the image of Lewis choking him with one hand while riding him into the bed, and his own increasingly desperate stroking proves to be too much to endure all at once. He finishes with a tremulous string of expletives that might have contained Lewis's name several times over - he's of no mind to notice or really care.

Lewis is chuckling on the other line. "That was quick," he says. From anyone else, it might have been an accusation. From Lewis, it sounds accomplished, almost proud.

Alex feels a dull flush of shame somewhere beneath the climactic haze, but he isn't bothered by the jab. "Yeah well," he says between steadying breaths, "that's your fault, innit."

"My fault." Lewis laughs again, just as softly as his spoken words. "I certainly didn't post photos pretending to strangle myself for attention."

"And I didn't comment anything about choking," Alex retorts as he tosses the used tissue aside. He had been well awake beforehand, and he really ought to clean up properly, but now he feels as though he could doze off at any moment. He snuggles into his duvet, still cradling the phone to his ear. "Maybe we're both to blame."

"Maybe." Lewis hums a thoughtful note. "I really ought to visit soon." His tone is serious this time.

"You should," Alex says, eyes fluttering shut. He's the one speaking in a low voice now, though it's only partly from exhaustion. "I miss you."

"I miss you too." 

There's silence for a few minutes, sleepy and comfortable. Alex listens to the other breathe, lulled by the sound, imagining being cradled in Lewis's arms rather than bundled up alone.

"You're dozing, aren't you."

"Mm." 

"So predictable." Lewis says it with such gentle fondness that Alex smiles again, into his pillow. "Shall I sing you a lullaby?"

"Please don't," Alex mumbles, even if he _would_ listen to Lewis sing. He'd listen to Lewis recite the dictionary, if that's what he wanted to do. 

"Well then, if you're off -"

"Stay." The plea is half-muffled by his covers, but it's no less insistent for it. "Please."

"All right," Lewis says. Alex can hear his smile. "Just for you, love."

Alex isn't sure if his thank you is spoken aloud or only imagined. It doesn't matter either way. Lewis knows. He always does.

**Author's Note:**

> really, boys ???  
> (in large part for centaurora)
> 
> title is from saint motel's 'sweet talk'
> 
> 10/30 edit: as featured in one of lewis's videos ---


End file.
